


A Fraction of Time

by DeathViolinist



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathViolinist/pseuds/DeathViolinist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to Tempus. A place were everyone, human and creature alike are born with a timer across their wrist. Much like the display of a digital clock the numbers countdown until they hit zero. What happens when they hit zero? A multitude of possibilities, but the right one is never what it seems to be.</p><p>Excerpt: (from a much later part)<br/>A slight burning sensation started in my wrist, slowing travelling up my arm until it spread to the rest of my body and increased in "heat". Glancing down to where the usual red block like numbers stared back at me, was six zeros, each pair separating by a colon, flashed almost angrily against my pale skin. The pain made sense now, my time had run out, looks like it is the moment of truth. Taking a deep breath, placing one foot in front of the other, closing the distance. I was mimicked, by a shadow across from me, each step increasing the burning in my nerves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fraction of Time

Apocrophis. The day we all look forward to. The day where our dials hit zero. How the dials got there? No one really knows, most legends say it derives from the alchemy used to mark the skin of those who kept track of the days until they ran out of places to tally up the amount of twenty-four hour periods. Alchemy, the practice that runs from equivalent exchange, gave us dials, animistic qualities, among other things, and the thing that gave us bloodsuckers.

The people who reside in Tempus, either live in Vita, the land springtime and autumn, or Mort, the land of fire and ice. Most live in Vita if they are lucky enough to make it before the Arkos River rises into its cursed form every thirty years, creating an electromagnetic boundary between the two regions where ever the now frozen spikes of water do not completely separate the two. My story starts in Vita, the land most try to flee to whenever they receive the chance, so what compelled me to leave? That's right, my dial, the cause of most complications in my life, excluding the weird, furry little black feline ears that sit atop my head, paired with a matching black tail at the end of my spine.

My name is Kuro Hotaru, a Neko, part cat and part human, separated from society by my heritage and by my dial. How you may ask? Well, most people are born with their dial that is continuously counting down from their day or birth, but mine, the strange little clock it is never counted down for the first two years of my life. Not only that, but it seems to tell me the exact destination I need to reach before it hits zero; I don't know what will happen it I don't make it where the dial wants me to go, but I plan on making it there so I don't have to find out. Life never really has gone the way I want it to, but this time, this time it will be different; at least that is what I have heard from everyone around me.

Vita. Land of happiness and safety. Land of light and life. This is where I live, many call it a blessing, I call it a curse. Everyone here is either a pure blood human, or a pure blood Therianthrope. Being the half-breed that I am, everything done here makes me feel out of place. Do you ever look around and notice everyone around has the perfect blonde hair and blue eyes, but you have black hair and brown eyes? Yes, definitely out of place, that is exactly how I feel in Polaris. The capital of the Vitian region, the nicest place to live, but also the place with the most segregation against half-breeds like myself. I couldn't begin to tell you the amount of dirty looks and verbal insult I receive on a daily almost hourly basis. The worst comes from the adults in our educational system, almost paralleled by the pure breeds that surround me from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute, everyday of the week.

My story starts in the fifteenth year before the next curse flare up of the Arkos. I was only ten at the time, but that didn't stop what happened. Dials, the counters on our wrists that continuously count down towards zero, but never reach the null number, only ever hitting one second, resetting back to the original number at the first of each year. The dull red digital numbers only hit zero once you meet your desired mate that will be with you for the rest of your life, no matter what happens. Most pure-bloods find their mate by the age of fifteen, each dial constantly counting down until the fated day of meeting. What does my dial decided to do for three years? That's right, it stopped completely with ten days, five hours, and thirty-one minutes remaining. Constant teasing followed the stopping of my dial, ear pulling, name calling, tail jerking, punches, kicks, everything in between left their marks on both my body and my mind.

* * *

 

One hundred and fifth day of year seventeen before the curse, eighteenth hour of the day, the large ball of fiery gas hanging in the sky slowly finding its way to sleep beyond the horizon. Darkness was setting in, footsteps pounded against the cobblestone sidewalk, wheezing pants expelled small puffs of frigid air into the atmosphere, heartbeat racing the impending threat of assault. Emerald eyes flicked back towards the other multiple footsteps following behind. Fear blocked out all other emotions as the young male ran through the streets, sporadically choosing alleyways to try and lose those trailing behind him with the intent of harm. He ran as fast as his tired legs could carry him, reflexes allowing him to weave in and out of the unclear pathways of which he travelled upon. The wind whistled loudly in his ears, both sets of them; crude names were thrown in his direction from those behind him that were quickly closing the distance between them. The dark haired male yelped in pain a rock pelted his head, knocking him even more off balanced and forcing him to the cold, hard, wet ground. The neko scrambled to gain his footing on the slippery cobblestone ground, preferably before the three other males caught up to his fallen form. Panicked eyes frantically looked around for a place to hide, arms grabbing anything within reach that could get the attached body farther away from the now slowed, approaching footsteps. Kuro looked up at the three purebred Nagual, known throughout out their school for being the most terrifying group of wolf shifters.

The smaller male whimpered in fear and backed himself up against the closest wall, furry ears pressed as flat as possible against his head, almost invisible against the mop of shaggy black hair that adorned his head. His heart hammered against his rib cage as the larger teens shifted, each one a slightly darker shade of black than the one next to him. Eyes red with the thirst for striking more fear into the one who is cowering in a fetal position, pressed tightly against the rough brick wall. Growls ripped from the three sets of snapping jaws, accompanied with glistening canines that could easily break through the Neko's bones. The half-breed hissed in pain as claws tore into his pale flesh, drawing blood and leaving nasty gashes on his limbs. Snarls of different frequencies echoed in his ears from the too close proximity in which they were being emitted. Cries and whimpers of utter agony escaped from the smaller male's vocal chords, despite the desire to appear strong to those who were tearing into his flesh as if it were made of softened butter and held no resistance. Black dots spotted the cat-eared male's vision as a cry for help was muttered from his lips, last thing seen being a tattered slate coloured cape fluttering through the space above the male as he fell unconscious, blood pouring from his wounds and the desire to stay alive diminishing at an alarming rate.

Eyes fluttered open briefly, catching a glimpse of deep violet eyes. The injured male groaned in pain as he shifted slightly in the other being's arms. Agony forced the younger male back into a state of unconsciousness, left to the mercy of the one carrying him. The next time he awoke, he lay outside the door of his dwelling. Groans escaped his lips as he struggled to sit up, Kuro glanced down at his limbs, first noticing the pink tinted bandages coiled over the many wounds he had acquired many hours ago. Tentative fingers traced along the winds of each strip of linen, wondering how they found their place against his skin, wrapped so caringly and firmly around his wounds to prevent any further blood loss and infection. He struggled to pull himself to his feet, stumbling a few steps around the porch before practically falling through the door as he wedged it open. The rotted wood creaked under the male's weight as he curled up where he laid on the floor, arms pressed firmly against his stomach to help ease the throbbing ache. He whimpered weakly and kicked the door closed behind him as he crawled his way towards the vacant fire place that stood cold at the other end of the room he had fallen into.

Fever broke out on his skin, sweat ran down his brow and soaked the tattered clothes that adorned his body, burning the covered wounds, creating weak mewls of suffering as he writhed on the hard flooring underneath his body. Limbs flailed around helplessly, aiming to produce some sort of relief and ease the fever that plagued his body. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks went by before the mix breed gained any form of relief from his fever and healing process. Bandages were completely red, staining parts of his pale flesh a light pink. Consciousness was regained the following three hours after the horrid fever broke, releasing the male from most of his suffering. He groaned lightly as he stirred and stood up slowly, bracing himself against the wall as his knees wracked together and threatened to give out on him and take him back to the floor in which he raised off of. He slowly made his way towards the kitchen, leaning most of his weight against wall at times to prevent himself from plummeting to the tile below.

Hunger clouded his mind as hands rummaged through the foods in the refrigerator, grabbing at anything that was remotely within the due date. Only finding the minimal amount of food, the Neko carefully ate what he found, quenching a small amount of hunger that ate away at his sanity. His hunger stayed at the front of his mind, but receded to the back of his mind as he unwrapped the soiled linens from his body and dumped them in the trashcan. Slowly, he made his way to the remnants of what was once a bathroom. Rummaging through the cabinets he pulled out a small roll of fresh bandages and loosely binded his wounds up again. Kuro wondered his way through the rest of the abandoned house, locating the closest bedroom that contained one outfit about his size that the male quickly changed into. Gray skinny jeans, hung loose on his thing frame, the waistband barely over his hips, a black hooded sweatshirt hid the bandages on his torso and arms complete with a pair of black combat boots, tucked under the jeans. Packing a small backpack with what non-perishable food was found in the cabinets, he slung the bag over his shoulder and headed out the front door.

Kuro whimpered softly and hobbled his way outside, heading towards the center of the city. His wounds pulled under the bandages, threatening to reopen, but only pulling enough to cause pain and make his limbs sore from the walking. The small, malnourished male kept to the shadows of buildings as he walked towards his destination, determined not to draw any more attention to himself and prevent any further injury of his body. He clenched his fist as he walked, often biting into his lip to keep from making any pained sounds that would possibly be heard by any who hated him and would take advantage of his weakened state to eliminate him from their "perfect" society of purebloods.


End file.
